


Achey Days

by McSquishee



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003), Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Automail, Automail Talk, Family Fluff, Hurt Edward Elric, Hurt/Comfort, Mustang's Team, Pain, Rain, Sick Edward Elric, Sickfic, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:01:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24956506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/McSquishee/pseuds/McSquishee
Summary: Aside from Mustang and Hawkeye, team Mustang is unaware of Edward's automail limbs. When a particularly dreary day leaves his ports aching, he tries to hide his pain from the team in fear of pity or judgement. How will they react when his secret finally gets out? familial team mustang with hints of EdWin if you squint
Comments: 8
Kudos: 370





	1. chapter one

Edward Elric had had enough of this day.

His bangs were slicked down against his forehead in the misty rain, and the heaviness in the air seemed to take fester in the hollows of where his arm and leg used to be. He loathed the fact that he was forced to leave the safe, warm confines of his bed this morning, all thanks to a certain black-haired bastard Colonel. Why the colonel needed his stupid report today of all days, he didn't know, but he sure was going to let him know how unhappy he was about it. He pulled his coat tighter around his shoulders. Although the day was rather mild and warm, he couldn't help the chill he felt deep in his bones. His flesh hand made it's way to his sore shoulder port, in a measly attempt to massage away the heavy ache. He made a conscious effort to push through the pain he felt in his leg, no matter how bad, because the Fullmetal Alchemist could hardly be seen in public with a limp. He had a hard enough time getting respect as it is, being only 12. All of the higher-ups either coddled him like a child, or thought he was an insolent brat. Truthfully, his reputation among the military officers made no difference to him, after all, the only reason he enlisted was to get Al's body back, but damn it all to hell if it didn't piss him off to be brushed to the side like a helpless child. He already had enough problems, the last thing he needed was to be seen not only as a child, but as a cripple. He shuddered at the thought.

At least one thing that had gone well for him this morning was that Al had agreed to stay behind at the dorms. He had managed to convince him to stay, only because Winry was visiting and he wanted to catch up. Ed was relieved to be able to get out of his brother's sight, because if all knew of the pain he was in, he would be wrapped up in bed with a couple of hot water bottles and a bowl of soup. He bathed in the mental image. He swore for a moment, he could feel the heat seeping through his pain-riddled body. The moment didn't last long, however, and he was brought back to his harsh reality. He stood outside of Central Command, thinking of how bad the consequences could possibly be for blowing off his meeting with Mustang, but ultimately decided that since he was already here, he might as well get it over with.

He kept his head down as he navigated through the crowds of blue, following the familiar corridors leading to Colonel Mustang's office. He put all of his energy into looking the least bit suspicious possible, forcing his leg to match the movements of the other and gritting his teeth through the pain. Before long, he stood outside the mahogany doors, laced with dents and scratches courtesy of his automail foot. He smirked at the sight. In order to follow tradition and to keep up his act, he took a deep breath before delivering a swift kick to the door, albeit much gentler than usual. He immediately regretted the action as spikes of white-hot pain shot through the port. He ground his teeth tighter and stifled a grunt before walking into the office. He was met with all of the faces of his coworkers, all either hard at work or at least pretending to be. "Hey Chief!" Called Havoc from behind his desk. "Still raining out there, huh?" He lifted his gaze to Havoc's, being met with a sympathetic smile.

"Just a tad." He muttered under his breath, before clapping his hands together. Upon hearing the familiar hum of alchemy, he touched his hands to his soggy clothes, dispersing the water into the air around them. Although the feeling of dry clothing was much better, it did nothing to rid himself of the cold he felt deep within himself. He looked back up at the room. "Is the Colonel in?" First lieutenant Hawkeye was the first to answer as always.

"Yes, Edward. He's expecting you. I'll let him know you're here." She smiled before turning on her heel and ducking into the next room. As he waited, he fought the urge to rub furiously at the port on his leg, but he couldn't stop himself from subconsciously raising a hand to wrap it's warmth around his shoulder. He let his eyes fall shut as he struggled to keep up his front. In his pain, he had momentarily forgotten where he was, until being brought back by a concerned voice.

"Something wrong with your shoulder there, Chief?" Asked Havoc. Ed jerked himself back into reality and turned sharply to look into the man's worried eyes. He felt dread pool in his stomach as he stumbled to find an excuse. Mustang and Hawkeye were the only ones who knew about Edward's automail, and he intended to keep it that way for as long as possible, at least until he could build up some respect from his teammates. He didn't want to be seen as a weak link, even if it meant a little bit of fibbing for the time being. He quickly dropped his hand back to his side.

"Oh- uh, no. I uh, I just had a- um, an itch! My shoulder was itchy!" He chuckled weakly, hoping they would buy the excuse. Havoc looked unconvinced, but decided to let it go.

"Okay, if you say so..." He said warily. Ed let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. He grasped onto the fact that as soon as he was done here, he could curl up in bed and bug Winry for some of those fancy painkillers she always carried. He smiled at the thought.

"The colonel will see you now, Edward." Stated the professional as always Hawkeye. She met Edward's eyes and squinted as she looked him up and down. "Say, Edward, are you feeling alright? You look a little pale." Before he could protest, he was met with a gentle palm to the forehead. For a split second he wanted to lean into the comfort, then quickly jerked back, stumbling over his feet and his aching leg. The lieutenant's eyes widened slightly in concern. "You're burning up, Edward." Was he? He felt so cold, how could he possibly have a fever? Realizing the gravity of the situation, Ed desperately tried to salvage his quickly faltering muse. Panic began to set in."Oh, I really feel fine! It's nothing! I'm completely fine!" He stuttered out, hiding behind a smile. With a quick glance around the room, he realized all eyes were on him now, all looking concerned for their youngest colleague. Ed began to feel cornered as he struggled to find a way out of his situation. Despite how cold he felt, he could feel sweat balling and rolling down his face. He took a few quick steps back, but upon setting his foot down, a sharp, agonizing pain shot up through his femur and spread through the muscles and tissues until he could no longer take it. He succumbed to the pain and fell to the ground. Hard. A small whimper made it's way through his lips despite his attempts to keep it in. The pain would not let up, as he wrapped both his metal and flesh arms around the stump. He screwed his eyes shut and let out quick breaths through his teeth. So much for hiding it, he thought. 

He took a deep, shuddering breath and held back the pained tears that threatened to fall from behind his tightly shut eyelids. He could barely register muffled voices around him as he began to remember what had happened. He had fallen, in the colonel's office, in front of everybody. He felt a slight flush creep over his cheeks in embarrassment. Mustang would never let him live this down. Slowly, he cracked open an eye to see the worried faces of everyone crouched around him, running their eyes over him as if looking for injuries.

"Edward, are you alright? Can you hear me?" Called Hawkeye's stern but gentle voice. He opened his other eye and looked into hers. He took a breath and cleared his throat.

"...Sorry, I-I'm alright. Just give me a second." He spoke between pants. The looks his coworkers were giving him told him that they were not convinced, but he couldn't find it in him to care over the searing pain that had now spread to his shoulder. He lifted his flesh hand from his leg and brought it to his shoulder instead. He let out a shaky breath and let his eyes slip closed again. He distantly heard a door close before he heard a familiar deep voice resonating through the room.

"What's wrong I heard a-" He looked down at an agony-riddled Edward curled tightly in a ball on the floor. "What happened? Is he hurt?" Questioned the Colonel as he slid to his knees in front of Ed. "Fullmetal- hey- look at me. Are you hurt? Do I need to call a medic?" As Ed processed his words, he was baffled to hear concern in the man's voice, but immediately pushed it out of his mind at the mention of a medic. His eyes shot open in panic.

"No! No I'm fine! I don't need a medic! Just- Just help me up." Edward stuttered out. The pain in his ports had faded to a point where he believed he could gingerly stand but walking anywhere was out of the question. Mustang looked at him doubtfully before holding his right hand out to Ed. Ed stared at the offered appendage for a few seconds. It was Mustang's right hand, held out to Ed's right hand. The problem with that was that his right shoulder throbbed in pain, and he was confident that if he were to pull himself up using it, he would be reduced to screaming, and that would do little to prove his point that he was okay. Cursing inwardly, Ed slipped his left hand off of his shoulder and offered it to Mustang. Understanding flashed in the Colonel's eyes. He switched his hands and hoisted Ed up, and watched as Ed put nearly all of his weight on his right leg.

"It's the automail, isn't it?" An overwhelming sense of anxiety and defeat washed over his battered body. He had lost. He had been figured out. The team would surely never trust or respect him now that they knew the truth. Now that they knew he was a cripple. He glared at Mustang dead in the eyes, sending him a look of betrayal. The Colonel just smiled lightly at him; their hands still intertwined. Ed would have let go long ago, had it not been for the fear that he may very well fall over again if did.

"Automail?" Gasped Havoc. "Chief, you never told us you had automail?" Ed shifted uncomfortably under the stares. He found himself at a loss for words. He just stood there, holding Mustang's hand like a child, mouth opening and closing as he tried to think of what to say.

"It never came up." He decided on at last. He hopped slightly as he tried to keep his balance on his flesh foot, his automail held just barely above the ground. Sighing, Mustang broke the tense silence.

"Come on, Fullmetal. Sit down before you fall down, would you?" He gently pulled Ed's hand as they stumbled together towards the couch. Keeping his sore leg straight, he gingerly sat down with a wince. Upon finally finding himself able to breathe a bit better, he looked up at all of the faces surrounding him, dreading the way that they would look at him. Pity, sympathy, perhaps disgust. It wasn't all that uncommon for someone to find something mean to say about Edward's missing limbs after all. So he kept it hidden. He wore long sleeves and pants even in the unforgiving heat of summer, he wore gloves to cover his mismatched hands, and he made sure to never, ever show any weakness. It was safer that way. That way, he didn't have to see the look in their eyes. It made him feel so small, though he loathed to admit it. However, when he looked into the faces of the team, he didn't see any of what he feared. He saw understanding, and ultimately, just concern. Even though he hated to worry them, he couldn't blame them. He probably looked like hell. Hoping to change the topic and get away from the concerned eyes, he cleared his throat and reached into his jacket, pulling out a manila folder.

"Uh, here." He muttered, holding it out to the Colonel. "My report." Mustang just looked at him, dumbfounded.

"Fullmetal, you just collapsed on my floor, and you think I'm worried about the report?" Mustang looked down at him, worry evident in his stare. Edward sank into himself slightly, uncomfortable. Everyone's eyes were still on him, and he wanted nothing more than to shrink into himself and disappear. The colonel sighed through his nose and took the report from Ed's outstretched hand, then turned to place it on his desk. Edward was relieved, hoping that Mustang had realized he was fine and they could continue on like normal. However, his relief was short-lived as he felt a phone receiver shoved into his hand. He looked over at the Colonel in confusion. "Call your brother, tell him what's going on, and have him bring down your mechanic friend to have a look at you. I know she arrived yesterday so don't try to weasel your way out of this. Edward just stared at the Colonel, eyes wide and mouth agape.

"That is really not necessary, I'm fi-" He started.

"Fullmetal, if you say you're fine I will torch you." Mustang interrupted; fingers poised to snap.

"Seriously though do not involve Winry! She'll hit me with a wrench! Or cry! Or hit me with a wrench and then cry!" Ed protested. He hated worrying Winry, and he hated a wrench to the temple just as much, but when he looked around the room, seeing all of their faces flaring at him, urging him on, he knew there was no way out of this. Sighing, he muttered a few choice words under his breath as he dialed the number to his dorm. Hawkeye and Mustang both stood silently, as Havoc and Breda had made their way to sit on the couch across from him, still watching him warily. Falman and Fuery both stood behind Havoc and Breda, and all of them were looking at him.

"Hello, you've reached the Elrics, Winry speaking." Edward really hated his life in that moment. He was praying Alphonse would pick up and maybe he would be able to find a way to keep Winry out of this, alas, Truth hated his guts. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he spoke up.

"H-hi um- Winry." He stuttered nervously.

"Oh, Ed. I thought you were at the office?" She asked, a slight hint of concern creeping into her voice. Ed swallowed again.

"Oh, well, I am- I just- I uh, I wanted to uh- say hi." Edward winced at his own lie. He didn't have it in him to tell Winry the truth. Before he could hear her response, he felt the phone being ripped out of his hand and over his head.

"Miss Rockbell, this is Colonel Mustang. How are you?" Ed had never wanted to be somewhere else more in his life. He would rather be at the bottom of a dumpster right now, so long as he was alone. He had the colonel talking to his childhood friend like a teacher talking to a child's parent after they had gotten themselves into trouble. Ed groaned in defeat and let his head hit the back of the couch. "Yes, I'm afraid Ed is having trouble with his automail, I was wondering if you'd be able to pay us a visit to check him over?" He paused, waiting for her response. "Of course, see you then, thank you Miss Rockbell. Goodbye." Mustang then promptly hung up the phone and turned to the group of people anxiously waiting for the result of the phone call, especially Ed. "She said she'll be here in twenty minutes. She also said something about a wrench with your name on it, Fullmetal." Edward visibly cringed at the thought of the wrath of Winry's tools.


	2. chapter two

“Say, Ed, how come you didn’t tell us you had automail if it was hurting you?” There it was. The inevitable stream of questions that he would have to scrounge up lies to answer. He lifted his head from the back of the couch to a skittish-looking Fuery, who had posed the question. He thought about telling them how he was afraid of what they would think of him if they knew, but quickly shook away the thought, settling for only part of the truth.

“It’s just the rain. It always hurts in the rain. It just.. doesn’t usually get this bad.” He answered, avoiding eye contact, though he knew they were all feeling bad for him. "But anyway it's fine now and my mechanic will tell you the same thing. There's nothing I can do except put up with it. It's fine." There was a heavy silence filling the air. He could feel the weight of their eyes on him, their unspoken words of condolences sitting on his chest like lead. He kept his eyes locked onto the floorboards, tracing the swirls and knots in the wood. Mustang's chair let out a low whine as he leaned back into it.

"How long ago was the surgery?" Asked Mustang. Even if Ed didn't really want to answer any more questions, he was thankful to be rid of the torturous silence. Ed sighed and thought back through the grueling therapy sessions and the unfathomable agony that is automail surgery. He let his breath out slowly, feeling the hot air brush past his parted lips. He threw back his head to lean on the cushioned back of the couch. He remembered how only around a month after the surgery, he learned the agony of rain, and he began to detest the month of April. He grimaced as he remembered that he was currently experiencing it all over again.

"It's been about a year now, I think." Ed muttered breathily. He continued to stare at the ceiling. After a few long seconds of silence, he grew uneasy, and lifted his head to look around, as if to make sure everyone was still there. What he was met with was his colleagues, jaws all dropped to the floor, eyes wide and glued to Ed. He shifted in his seat. Feeling heat rising to his head and grazing his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

"...What?" He asked, almost worried he didn't want to know the answer. They began to contain themselves, picking up their jaws and adjusting their positions awkwardly.

"It's just that- well-" Falman piped up. "Isn't the recovery supposed to take at least three years? I mean, how are you even walking?" Ed just shrugged, hiding a wince upon moving his shoulder. He recalled the day of the surgery, Pinako explaining the recovery time, and him swearing he'd do it in one. He smirked.

"I'm stubborn as all hell and I didn't want to be cooped up in a bed any longer than I had to. Granny told me I'd be spitting blood trying to rush the recovery- and she was right, but I would rather that than be helpless any longer than I had to be." He explained. The faces around him softened in sympathy. Ed hated this. He hated the pity. He wished he would have called in sick today, it wouldn't have really been a lie, after all.

"You never cease to amaze me, kid." Havoc chimed in after a few moments, rubbing an eye with his palm and sitting back in the couch. "I mean, I knew you were stubborn, but goddamn." He chuckled. Ed smirked. Maybe he had them all wrong. Maybe nothing would change with them knowing about his automail. Maybe he could still be part of the team. He began to think that he had been worried for nothing, but the nagging fear still itched in the back of his mind. "But chief, how'd you lose your leg? You're so young." Havoc added. Ed froze. He had been expecting the question, but he couldn't very well tell them how he tried to bring his mother back from the dead. Luckily, he had spoken with Mustang about this type of situation, and they had come up with a cover story.

"During the Eastern Rebellion. My hometown isn't too far from Ishval and it wasn't spared from the conflict. I was being stupid and got hurt. My fault." Ed replied. He felt guilty lying to them, but it was to protect Al. They couldn't know about him. Not yet. At least he hadn't been lying about it being his fault. The room once again entered into solemn silence.

"That must have been really hard for you, kid. You're only 12 and not only are you missing a leg but you went through automail too." Havoc spoke, his voice low. Ed twitched. His brow furrowed slightly in frustration.  
"No, no- really it's fine- It is what it is and I deal with it, that's all." He said, trying to rid them of their pity towards him. All he got in response was a sad look from the whole team. That backfired.

Before he could assure them again, the tense silence was abruptly cut clean through with a shrill voice and the sound of a slamming door. Ed sunk into the couch, as if he could maybe melt into it and avoid a wrench to the noggin. His stomach began to flip.

"EDWARD ELRIC! WHERE ARE YOU?! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY BEAUTIFUL AUTOMAIL THIS TIME?!" Called Winry from the room over. Ed bit back a chuckle as he watched the hardened soldiers nearly jump out of their boots at a teenage girl. Ed snickered to himself. Immediately after, the door to Mustang's office swung open, undoubtedly worsening the dent in the wall, (courtesy of himself) revealing a seething Winry Rockbell, wrench in one hand, toolbox in the other. Ed shivered in his place, her blue eyes burning holes through his skull. Before he could even register what was happening, he heard a loud 'thunk', followed by a sharp pain in his forehead. A heavy wrench clattered to the wood floor. It was at this point when everyone else in the room decided it was in their best interest to stay out of it.

"What the hell, Winry?!" Edward yelled, rubbing the sore spot on his head.

"You dummy! You've done something reckless again, haven't you?" The pointed finger held out towards him shook with anger, but Ed could see the fear hidden behind her eyes. Ed quickly shook his head.

"No Winry! Nothing reckless! You really didn't need to come it's just the rain!" He yelled, waving his flesh hand around, claiming innocence. Her features immediately softened and her posture slouched. A small frown made it's way onto her face.

"What? Does it hurt again? Why didn't you tell me? Or Al, you big dummy?" She reprimanded. Ed frowned.

"Win, I promise, it's nothing! It's just been raining for a few days and it's more sore than usual! That's all!" He tried to convince her, but before she could respond, the Colonel spoke up again.

"Miss Rockbell, thank you for coming. I'm afraid Fullmetal may be withholding part of the truth. Not too long ago he collapsed in my office and couldn't even stand. I'll bet he can't now either." He remarked. Ed was mad at him for telling that to Winry, and he was even more mad that he was right. He felt a sharp pang of guilt as he watched Winry's eyes begin to water. He was going to kill the Colonel for that later. She turned to look at him, her eyes once piercing cerulean raging like the ocean, now a docile blue like the sky.

"Is it just the leg, or the arm too, Ed?" She asked sadly. The room went quiet again. Ed wilted. He was hoping maybe he could get out of this with them thinking he still had at least three limbs, but since when does anything ever go his way.  
"Chief, two automail limbs? I thought it was just the one!" Said Havoc, looking even more worried. Winry stopped and glared menacingly at Ed. Uh oh.

"You didn't tell them?!" She quaked. "What if you had gotten hurt and they didn't know you had automail, Ed? There are so many complications! It could kill you!" Ed looked guiltily at the floor. He really, really, wanted to go home. "Strip." Wait- What? He froze.

"What? Winry- no!" He protested.

"EDWARD ELRIC YOU HAD BETTER STRIP RIGHT NOW OR I WILL NOT BE RESPONSIBLE FOR ANY BRAIN DAMAGE YOU SUSTAIN!" She boomed. Ed shrunk and shuddered. The others in the room twiddled their thumbs uncomfortably.

"I think you had better listen to her, Fullmetal. I don't think she's joking." Mustang added. A quick look into Winry's eyes and though he would never admit it knew he was right. Ed breathed a deep sigh and said goodbye to any dignity he had left as he began unbuttoning his coat and peeling off layers until he was in just his undershirt and his boxers. The heating had never been great in the office, and sitting on a leather couch in his underwear only further proved this point. The cool draft did nothing to help with the ache, either. He avoided looking at anyone, but he could feel their eyes burning into the scars where metal meets skin. He knew they were tracing the metal plating that should be skin. He knew they were looking straight at the evidence of the worst mistake of his life, and he felt utterly defeated as all he could do was close his eyes and pretend he didn't feel the stares assaulting his body. He blocked out the sounds of Winry digging through her toolbox and let his mind sail far away from the pain and the guilt settling in his gut. This was going to be a long day.


	3. chapter three

It wasn't long before Winry had gathered a few tools and placed them on the coffee table in front of Ed. He still kept his head and eyes down, watching Winry's feet as she wandered about. She then made her way around the back of the couch and began to study the shoulder port. Gentle hands grazed the sensitive scarred skin. She hummed uneasily as she gently prodded the area. Ed did his best to hide his discomfort but couldn't hold back a wince as she touched a particularly sore spot. "Does it hurt more there, Ed?" She asked, softly. Ed pondered a moment before giving a slight nod. She shifted nervously. She moved her hand along to the space in between his shoulder blade and spine and gently rested a hand there. "Tell me if this hurts, okay?"

"M'kay." He responded. Now that the initial shock of being hurt and half naked in the Colonel's office had worn off, he found himself unreasonably exhausted and found it hard to keep his heavy eyelids parted. That is, until he felt a soft prod where Winry's hand lay, followed by a sharp pain that shot through his entire back and shoulder. His back arched and he gritted his teeth through a pained grunt. "Okay yeah, ow, that definitely hurts." He wheezed. By the look on Winry's face, this wasn't a good sign. "Why, what'd you do?" He wondered aloud. Winry shifted her weight to her heels.

"I poked at the main muscle that supports your arm. It's irritated and swollen and I need to take off the arm before it causes any permanent damage." She stated apologetically. Ed sank into himself. Now, not only would he look useless, he would be useless as well. It also didn't help that although the detachment usually wasn't half as bad as the attachment, with him being so sore, he guessed it wouldn't exactly be pleasant. Winry lifted her head to the others.

"I need another set of hands," She looked to Havoc, who was the closest. "Could you help me a sec?" Havoc looked uncertain, but stood anyway with a nod. She went ahead grabbing screwdrivers and wrenches and handing one to Havoc. She motioned for him to follow. Standing behind Ed, she began to remove the screws holding the plating on the top of his shoulder, before popping it off and placing it down on the coffee table. Havoc looked a little green as he looked into the inner workings of his arm, and Ed didn't feel any better about the situation. Winry then began pointing at parts and explaining.

"This here's the release lever, but you can't release the arm until you detach the nerves. To do that, you need to loosen the bolts quickly and swiftly, but they both need to be done at once, and I can't do them both on my own." She turned to Havoc with a smile. "That's where you come in. All you need to do is twist the bolt quickly when I say, okay?" Havoc still looked like he didn't want to mess with the mechanical appendage, but gave a reluctant nod anyway. She turned back to Ed, looking sympathetic. "This might hurt a bit, 'kay Ed? Brace yourself." And with that, she went about positioning Havoc's hands and wrench on the bolts, and did the same herself. The room was tight with anxiety, not only from Ed, but from those around him as well. "Okay, on three. One... two... three!" Ed didn't even realize the bolts had been moved before he felt it. The hot, burning pain, searing it's way through his nerves and setting fire to his entire body. He could vaguely hear a choked scream leave his mouth, but it felt as if his mind and ears had been stuffed with cotton. Everything became fuzzy and he could think of nothing other than the pain. He recalled seeing people moving about in a panic out of the corners of his vision, before it all faded to white.


	4. chapter four

The loud cracking groan coming from their youngest subordinate was enough to fuel their future nightmares. All of their eyes stayed trained on him for 1, 2, 3 seconds, and then it all went quiet. The silence was a relief at first, until they saw Ed's eyes roll into the back of his head as he started to lean forward. The only thing stopping him from falling were Winry's gentle hands on either shoulder as she knelt in front of him. Everyone had shot up on their feet and were now hovering around Ed anxiously. Mustang was the first to speak up.

"Is he okay? What happened?" Mustang's hand's gripped the edge of his desk so hard he swore the wood would splinter. Winry broke her gaze with Edward to look at Mustang with a gentle smile.

"Don't worry, this happens sometimes. He just fainted. It has never happened with the disconnection before, though." She frowned. "He must be in a lot more pain than he's letting on." At the reassurance that Ed was in fact not dying, the soldiers let go of the tension they held and made their way back to their original spots. Winry laid Edward down gently onto the cool leather and rest the back of her hand on the side of his cheek. She grimaced at the heat radiating from his skin. "He has a fever too. Is there any chance we can get a cool cloth for his head?" She asked the Colonel. He quickly nodded and urged for Havoc to find one. Winry then began to fidget with the port some more, and with a click and a hiss, the arm slowly released from the socket. She caught the arm and nearly buckled with the weight, before lowering it down to the floor. "Oh boy, I really need to make him a new set with a lighter metal, no wonder he's sore." She breathed with a frown. The team looked at her questionably. Mustang raised an eyebrow.

"Is it really that heavy?" He asked. Winry smiled.

"Why don't you come find out?" She smirked, gesturing to the arm resting on the floor. Mustang looked around at his subordinates who all shrugged. He swung out from behind the desk and glared at the metal arm with his arms crossed. He bent down and wrapped his hands around it on either side, and lifted it to his chest with a barely withheld grunt. Blood rushed to the apples of his cheeks.

"Damn, what? How does this kid even stand up straight?" He carefully set the limb back down on the floorboards. Winry smiled mischievously. His team looked at him in doubt. "This things gotta be at least 50 pounds!" He exclaimed. Winry nodded.

"52, to be exact. I've tried working with different metal alloys in order to decrease the weight, but in doing so it also makes it weaker and easier to break. You know how this one is," She threw her thumb to the pale, unconscious Edward. "If it was any easier to break I'd have to move to central just to keep up with repairs!" She chuckled with a sad smile. "But it really is so hard on him. I try everyday to make it easier for him, but there's only so much I can do." She crossed her arms with a frown. They all look at Edward, his pale flushed skin, brow furrowed slightly in pain under the wet cloth. Their hearts all went out to the kid who grew up too fast, who never learned how to lean on other people or show weakness. His tender age often slipped their minds, his eyes and maturity way too grown for his small body. But as they sit there, taking in the small being in so much undeserved pain resting on their office couch, a little piece of them broke inside. They wished they could help him understand that he's not alone anymore, and that he has people he can go to. Havoc frowned and brushed the bangs out of Ed's face.

"He just looks so small when he's like this, it's so easy to forget that he's just a kid." They all hummed and nodded in agreement. Winry sighed.

"You all said it was originally the leg bugging him, right? I guess I should take a look at that too before he wakes up." She stepped over her opened toolbox and knelt beside Edward. She gently pulled away the thin blanket covering him just enough to expose his left leg up to the port. She grimaced at the sight. The skin surrounding the metal ring was tight and swollen. The red puffy edges laced with ragged scars and stitch marks. She laid the back of her fingers on the tender skin and frowned at the heat radiating from it. She was sure that if he were to be walking any longer on it, the skin around the port would tear. "That's not good." She sighed. "Idiot doesn't know when to give up, does he? He's lucky there's no tears in the skin here," She circled her finger around the stump. "It would hurt like hell and I'd have to have granny come and fix it." She glared at Ed through his closed eyelids. "It's a good thing I'm here now to keep an eye on him. I should be taking the leg off, but I know how much he hates not being able to get around. He should be fine if he keeps off it for a few days." Winry groaned. Everyone in the room pitied the poor girl for being in charge of keeping the epitome of stubbornness off of his feet, and they all knew that it wouldn't go over very well with Ed once he woke up.


	5. chapter five

Muffled voices floated through Edward's tired ears. In his semi-conscious state, he had difficulty registering where they were coming from, or even where he was. He recognized the familiar cushion of a couch, and the thin scratchiness of crappy blanket, though he was thankful for the warmth it kept locked in around his body. Through the fog that lingered in his skull, he could vaguely remember concerned faces of people he knew, followed by the lightning bolts of pain that come with automail, albeit much worse than usual. That explained the faint throbbing in his ports, then. He let a pained groan fall through his teeth, bringing a flurry of 'Chief!'s and 'Edward!'s. That was right. He had fallen in Mustang's office, then there was a wrench and pain and white blotting his vision. He felt his stomach sink at the memory, but along with it, he felt a bit of unfamiliar warmth bubbling in his chest. He let his eyes crack open, wincing at the fluorescent office lighting.

"Hey chief, you doing alright?" Asked a worry-eyed Havoc, who was leaning over the couch to take in Edward's condition.

"Yeah, I'm alright. What happened?" He croaked in response. He let his eyes open fully and blinked a few times in adjustment. He was surrounded by his feebish-looking coworkers, all looking to confirm that Edward was alright. He smiled faintly at them, soon letting his face drop as his eyes fell upon a rather upset Winry.

"What happened, Edward, was that you were once again being an idiot and ran yourself ragged! If you had continued on the way you were, you would've caused some serious damage! You have to learn to rely on other people some more, dummy!" Winry yelled, her brow furrowed in frustration and concern. Edward frowned.

"So, guess that explains why my arm's gone, huh?" Winry nodded.

"Yes, Edward. And your leg should be gone too, but I've decided to be a little lenient with you, so long as you rest properly. But so help me, if I see one foot out of bed I will not hesitate to rip the leg clean off, mister!" She threatened. Edward smiled into her eyes.

"Okay Winry, you win. I guess I have no choice but so stay put now, huh?" He let out a pained chuckle. Winry let the hands on her hips cross over he puffed out chest.

"You betcha, and I'm gonna take care of you whether you like it or not." She announced, her nose to the ceiling. As much as Edward hated the situation he found himself in, he felt a sense of warm nostalgia amongst it all. Laying down on a couch, surrounded by people who cared about him and who were willing to spend their time taking care of him, he had nearly forgotten what it felt like. So as he looked at all of the faces of approval at Winry's declaration, hearing all of their voices telling him to take care of himself, all offering their support, and even a mousey Seargent Fuery mention his skills in making chicken soup, he could almost feel the pain melt away. He began to realize that he didn't have to prove himself worthy to be part of the team, they all already trusted and accepted him as one of their own. Edward smiled warmly at the room. And with that, Edward realized he had regained something he thought he could never get back.

A family.


End file.
